


the promise

by hoarmurath



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 16:22:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19404013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoarmurath/pseuds/hoarmurath
Summary: Wanda knows the truth, sometimes Thor simply needs to remind her.





	the promise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meilan_Firaga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meilan_Firaga/gifts).



> This was my first time writing this pairing! I was inspired to create something about them in the middle of their journey and how they would have grown to love each other. I hope you enjoy it, thank you for the opportunity to write them.

Wanda returns from Niflheim on the tail-end of night, three weeks after the wedding. 

She comes to their sleeping chamber on her own, a faint red glow under her cloak as she flies inside. Thor stirs, face sleep-soft. He never fails to wake, no matter when she comes home to Asgard. It is as if he always knows her, even in the deepest of sleeps. 

A faint smile on her lips, Wanda leans down over him. His kiss is sweeter than his petrichor scent, hot and alive. Eagerly the cold wind of her travels leaves her, just as he reaches out and topples her into bed with a pull of his arm. She settles down, curls on top of him. Feels the warmth of his skin against her cheek. 

“Done with your adventure?” he rumbles, low. 

“You could say that,” she replies. “Except you might have to come along with me, next time.” 

“I will come anywhere you call me to.” 

He means it, she knows. From mundane to magical, there is nowhere he will not follow if asked. It is only that she should need to ask him, and would allow herself to. As her heart would always keep him near, and her mouth rarely bends to involve him. One could argue for the logic that her brash, kingly husband with a star-death hammer does not need to be present at her secret journeys, but she knows the truth.

It is how she has always been, far more afraid to receive than not. Because what one gets, one may lose again. Permanently. 

He startles her out of reminiscence with a soft huff, a hand wrapping hers in its presence. 

“I think too much, I know,” she admits, self-deprecating. 

“It is not that, my heart. A blade ought to be used, just not at yourself. What troubles you?” 

Wanda begins to wonder if Thor slept much at all, this night. If he has also thought these things and realised more needs to be spoken of. If he can simply read the tension of her body, and know _her_. 

It ought to terrify, to be known so well. It ought to delight, to be considered so much.

She feels both, the mix of them roiling in her belly. 

“Do you mean it?” she asks. 

Bravery mustered, she shifts so that she may look upon his face.

Thor’s gaze pierces. He is not smiling. 

“I do not say what I do not mean, love.” 

Someone else would cajole further, would seek to change her mind, would try to convince her that they will be here for her. For good, for ever, for any other placating amount of time, denying the inescapable fact of the universe that all things have a beginning, and an end. 

It is why she picked him that he does not do any of those things to her. Does not make her fears small. Yet he will not allow those self-same fears break them apart, no. 

He will not. And so she will not either. 

They came through the deed of the nightmare in his head, and he forgave her. Battle is battle, and it is well-fought to inspire such doubt in one’s enemy. For all of godhood, she is the one who brought him to his knees. Brings him even now, albeit in a manner they favor much more. 

Wanda feels him breathe under her, slow and steady as he lies there. Waiting, just as he promised. 

On Asgard, marrying a prince is the same affair as is marrying a commoner. Whichever origin or ancestry they may have, it is still the Allmother’s binding hands that commit them together. The moment of Thor’s entire lifeforce in her hands is seared into Wanda's memory. Any lingering terror of her own monstrosity put to rest as he is the same as her, carrier of a power nature should shun and yet bends to. 

He meant it, and so did she. 

“I know,” says Wanda.

She bends down to kiss him once again, allows herself shelter in his arms, in his love. 

_I know._


End file.
